


Request for Assistance: My Penis

by hannibaby



Category: Rejseholdet | Unit One
Genre: Crack, La Cour hates trees, M/M, Philosophical musings over Fischer's cheekbones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibaby/pseuds/hannibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>La Cour and Fischer do the do in their delightful way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Request for Assistance: My Penis

**Author's Note:**

> I'm mourning the loss of Rejseholdet in the only way I know how.

It was late. Incredibly late. Late as balls. La Cour sat in his beloved hammock, leafing through a pile of paperwork because he hated trees and insisted on killing as many as possible. Barring Fischer, all the other little Rejseholdeters had retired to their hotel rooms. Probably having a smoking hot orgy without him again, La Cour thought bitterly. He would get Ulf for this, that bastard.   
  
Tired of the tree genocide before him, he dropped the papers listlessly onto the floor and glanced over at Fischer. The younger man was flopped in his chair chain-smoking, his legs resting on the desk as he mumbled to himself unintelligibly. La Cour quietly admired his colleague's cheekbones, cursing his own subpar cheekbone DNA, and wondered if he could cut his fancy cheese with them. He had lost his best knife and the hotel only had butter knives.  
  
After he had decided that Fischer's cheekbones would probably cut both cheese and meat, he rolled out of the hammock and wandered around the office attempting to look thoughtful and important. It was growing increasingly harder to breathe amongst all the smoke, the door sealed tightly shut against the winter chill. Fischer was no doubt growing more cancerous by the minute. That simply would not do.  
  
"What are you doing?" La Cour asked, slowly making his way over towards the sex god that was Fischer. The younger man simply grunted in response and lit up another cigarette. Inhaling deeply, he pushed some documents over to La Cour. Dead trees? Was Fischer coming on to him?  
"Documents on that old case. The one we couldn't get a lead on, with the young guy in the alley at the back of his flat?"  
La Cour nodded and looked down at the documents, a raging boner forming in his pants. Nothing got him going like dead trees.  
  
"Fischer" said La Cour, throwing the papers aside.  
Fischer looked up at him.  
"Show me your documents."  
Fischer looked at him confused as he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. "I just gave you all of them."  
"By your documents I mean your penis" said La Cour, master of the smooth moves.  
Fischer raised his eyebrow, shrugged, and began to disrobe.  
  
Their manly, masculine virility was on show for the security cameras to see. The two men did the nasty on Fischer's desk. And Ingrid's desk. And twice on IP's desk, just to teach him a lesson for not giving them back the fluffy pink handcuffs he'd borrowed last month. Fischer was hot and tasted like cigarette smoke which triggered La Cour's asthma, leading to a half hour break as he attempted to either get his breath back or his boner down so he didn't go to hospital with a tent in his pants. Once the crisis was averted, they did it on the hammock just for the sake of it. La Cour's suspicions of the cutting power of Fischer's cheekbones was confirmed when he cut his hand on them in an attempt to brush his colleague's hair from his face. He made a mental note to use them in any future murders he wished to commit.   
  
As the sun came up, the two men got dressed again, Fischer making sure he hid his fishnet stockings well under his manly pants.  
"No homo?" asked La Cour.  
Fischer nodded sternly and rubbed his stubbled chin. "No homo."


End file.
